WoD Wednesday: Esoteric

Esoteric: Adjective: Intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

Continuation of Ineffable and Abecedarian



When the fog clears, I’m still sitting on a soft, spongy substance that I would rather not try to identify, considering I just hatched from an egg, of all things. Like a newborn babe, my vision is blurred for anything further than my own hand. The light reflecting on the glittering shards of shell is blinding, so I blink several times before finally deciding to just close my eyes.

“Stunning,” a female voice says, surprising me.

When I burst out, I expected my kidnapper and the older male to be present, but I had yet to meet anyone else. I have no idea how long I was kept unconscious before somehow ending up in an egg, or how long I was in the egg when I got there. Something tells me the whole process is esoteric, and I will never know how everything came to be.

“She truly is. You made an excellent choice, Tristan,” another female says.

Tristan. That must be my kidnapper’s name. What is with everyone discussing his choice? Why did he choose me? And why didn’t I get a say in whether or not I wanted to do whatever it is they intend to do with me?

“Of course, because of her background, she’ll need to be trained,” an unknown male says.

“Yes. Etiquette, culture, history-” yet another female says, but is interrupted by Tristan.

“I know. I know. She’ll need to be trained in whichever element she has, as well.” There’s a pause, as if everyone is examining me. That’s when I realize I’m naked, so I quickly cover my private bits as much as I can. Everyone chuckles. “By her skin tone, I would say she’s either an earth or fire elemental.”

“Earth?” I’ve lost track of how many males and females are present at this point, but this is one of the females I’ve already heard. “Aren’t they usually green or some shade of brown?”

“You’ve still much to learn yourself, lovey,” a male voice says patronizingly. “Sometimes an earth elemental will take the shade of a blossom. The peachy tone of her skin could either be a shade of flame or petal. Time will only tell which she is.”

It’s starting to bother me that they’re all talking about me like I’m an object or not present. I’m becoming cold from the constant current of a breeze, which makes me think I could be outside. Even though I’m surrounded by people, I’m alone in whatever it is I’m going through. The mystery of what these people want with me is making me scared. The combination of feelings and climate cause me to shiver.

“Aw. The poor thing is cold. Tristan, give her the blanket,” one of the females says.

He’s had a blanket this whole time? Suddenly, a warm, soft blanket is draped over my shoulders. I grab for the edges and snuggle into it, not even caring how infantile it makes me appear. A hot sigh breathes against my hair as Tristan, I’m assuming, picks me up in his arms.

“Try opening your eyes again, sweetling,” he murmurs in my ear.

I shake my head.

“Come on,” he coos. “Let us all see those pretty eyes.”

I snuggle further into the blanket.

“We can see them properly later,” one of the ladies says. “She’s clearly uneasy with everything.”

“She needs to learn to accept her new life,” another woman says. “We all had to, at some point. It’s her turn. You’ve nothing to fear, girl. We’re all friends here, despite what you may think.”

“Just open your eyes and I’ll take you away from everyone, so you can have some time to recover and adjust,” Tristan says.

That sounds good. I’m sick of all these people. I would rather deal with the devil I know that the ones I don’t, even if I don’t know him well.

Everyone gasps when I open my eyes. While I still can’t see clearly, I can see a little better. What I see makes me lightheaded. The men all have what I would consider to me normal skin tones, but the women are every shade of the rainbow, glittering just as I am. Where am I?

To Be Continued…

WoD Wednesday: Pervade

Pervade: Verb: To become diffused throughout every part of


Before stepping inside, I brush a hand over the skirt of my TARDIS dress, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. Relative to the amazing costumes I’ve seen over the years, it’s nothing fancy. Clearly, some people spend days, maybe even months, on their costumes for Emerald City Comicon. I don’t have the patience or skill to do such a thing, although I definitely would if I could.

My husband squeezes my hand in his, and I look up at him. Bless him. He’s dressed normally, just as he is every year, but isn’t embarrassed by my crazy attire. Noting the gentleman fully decked out in a fawn costume, I suppose he figures it could be worse. I smirk at him. My daughter tugs on my other hand, bouncing.

“Are you ready? I know it’s not SDCC, like you’ve always wanted, but this’ll be fun,” he says to me.

“It’ll be perfect.” I stand up on my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. “Now let’s go in and mingle with my people.”

He rolls his eyes at that.

Walking in, I’m overwhelmed at the number of people herding their way toward the escalators like cattle. So many conversations are going on in the room, that it creates the illusion of a roaring crowd. Excitement pervades the air and I breathe it in.

We ride several escalators before reaching the top level, where all the excitement is. Random bags of swag are shoved into our hands by minions and we step aside to flip through the schedule.

“What time is the autograph again?” he asks and I sigh in exasperation. The main reason we’re even here and he can’t remember one time.


“Oh. That’s a ways away. We have plenty of time.”

“We’ll want to get in line early.”

“No!” my daughter opposes loudly.

“Look, do you want to meet the Doctor?” I say.


“Then we’ll have to wait in line.”

“We can wander the Exhibit Hall until we have to go, though,” my husband cuts in.

As we stroll down the aisles of tables and booths, I barely pay attention. We’re going to have to walk through again later. None of that matters. I get to meet the Doctor today. It’s a couple minutes before I realize we’ve been stopped at the Tokidoki booth for minutes. My daughter has merchandise and is ready to check out. They give her a little hat and we take pictures of her wearing it.

“Do you want to find the Espionage Cosmetics booth?” He asks, trying to distract me from my nerves.

“No. I want to be able to take my time and enjoy it. Can we just head over?”

He looks at his watch. “It’s only 12:30.”

“12:30?! We have to go. Now!”

I yank them by their hands and they laugh at me. That’s okay. Let them laugh. We leave the building to go to the place we need to be. To avoid the soul crushing crowd around the main elevators, we sneak our way to the ones on the far end that hardly anyone ever uses.

Once we get on, we wait for our floor, only to realize that in all the hullaballoo, we forgot to hit the floor button and we zoom past it. Blushing I reach over and push the proper button, but we continue up to another floor.

When it opens, I suppress a fangirl squee. My daughter does not. The Doctor himself, smiles his toothy smile and steps in with a polite nod.

“You’re the Doctor,” she says.

“Yes, indeed,” he responds.

“Mommy and I have been watching all your episodes this week.”

He laughs. “Brilliant.”

She tugs on my hand. “Mommy. We don’t have to wait in line now! He can just sign while we’re on the elevator.”

My eyes widen in humiliation. “Oh. Honey. We’ll wait in line with everyone else.”

She pouts and the Doctor laughs again. “Here, come with me,” he says when we reach our floor. He takes us through a back entrance into the autograph room, then sends a minion to get a photo. Upon their return, the signs the photo to our names along with “Allons-y” in the corner of the page.

Bending down to her level, he hands the photo to my daughter.

“There. Now you don’t have to wait.”

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that,” I say.

“I know. I wanted to. You have a good day.”

With that, he parts the curtains separating us from the line and the room erupts in applause. Leaving the way we came in, my daughter looks up at me with wide eyes.

“Best. Con. Ever.”

Note: Total fiction. I did get to meet and obtain an autograph from David Tennant at ECCC this year, but it was no where near this personal. However, the autograph is real!



Topic Tuesday: Cats or Dogs?

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am definitely a cat person. I would not own a dog. Ever. What about you? What do you prefer? This is a picture of my cat, General Jack O’Neil (Jack, for short). Share a picture of your little one in the comments.